


Untitled

by threatlevelmidnight



Category: Good Charlotte
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threatlevelmidnight/pseuds/threatlevelmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like killing myself now to save me the trouble of dying later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck my actual life. This is from motherfucking 2003.

I stayed up all night and watched you while you slept. Watched you die over and over in your sleep, when even your dozing mind was restless because of what I’d said. "It’ll never work." You’d just start crying. Totally out of nowhere, your face just screwed up and you’d start crying and I sat there and bit my lip and tried to will my own tears away. Useless. All night I watched you. Nightmare, break down, repeat.

"Fuck you!" Your response to those three words that had been clawing at the back of my brain for way too long. It’ll never work. It’ll never work.

What could I say? "Fuck you" back? It didn’t seem fitting. You were angry, you were heartbroken and you were stronger than I was. Too strong to give up. To take the dickless way out.

"So that’s it? You want to throw away our future? You want to do that to me, Joel?"

What could I say to that? "Benj... what future?"

A deer caught in the headlights. Round, glossy eyes, unblinking as they did nothing to hide your broken heart. _Breaking_ heart.

Your teardrops looked like glass and pierced my heart like I couldn’t believe. Why was I doing this? When you’re this far into it, already in way over your head... why try and back out now? What’s the point in fighting to live when you’ve already sucked too much water into your lungs?

It hurt. It hurt in every way I knew pain. It burned at my throat and scratched at my eyes, it choked at my insides to break you like that. To save ourselves from... what? From more pain in the end? Somehow it was hard to believe that any pain felt when this thing... this "thing" ended on its own could have been worse than what I did last night. It was like killing myself now to save me the trouble of dying later.

So I sat there and watched you fight off the nightmares and cry yourself stupid all night, and when I got the guts I ran my hand through your hair, scaring you shitless I’m sure.

"It was a nightmare," I told you. "I’m sorry."

"It’ll never be the same," you whispered, and your eyes were glossy again. "You’re right... what’s the point? We don’t have a chance."

"I don’t care," I told you. Over and over, whispers into your hair when I climbed in bed beside you and you let me. Your arms went around my back just like always, and my nose was behind your ear, curling you up into me and whispering to your hair and your skin. I couldn’t stop my hands from groping whatever they could reach, up and down your back and your legs, so scared that you’d toss me away like I did to you. But you’re stronger than that. "I don’t care. I don’t have a chance without you."


End file.
